Page 82

“Beth, we aren’t actually together. Friends with benefits at most.”

“Sure. Sure,” Lizzie drawled, some of her pep coming back. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Charlotte opened her mouth to argue, then let it close. The protest evaporated, leaving only warmth and ache behind. “When do you want to leave?”

“In the morning.”

She took a steady breath, the tightness in her chest easing because she might not be the first person Lizzie called but they still needed each other. There was a spot inside both of them only they could fill. “I’ll pick you up at ten.”

When the call ended, Charlotte let herself take in the city stretching out beyond the glass. Boston shimmered, misty sunlight on wet streets, car headlights sliding over stone. It would be good to get away from the city for a few days and spend time with Lizzie. But the memory of red hair tangled on her pillow, freckles like a galaxy of constellations across bare skin, stirred a longing in her bones to have Ali in her bed again.

And though Charlotte had built her life on logic, order, and control… it was that chaos, heat, and color she couldn’t stop reaching for, even when she knew it would likely leave her broken in the end.

21

ALI

Leah Coleman was an interesting woman. An impression substantiated by how the woman sat with regal poise in the squash armchair occupying the corner of Ali’s studio. Her attention locked with a rather judicious Willow.

“Diana had a feline just like you in college,” Leah addressed the cat, who swished her tail back and forth across the wooden floor, far from amused. “Same disapproving expression.” She cracked a faint smile, leaning forward and offering her hand. “I loved that fluffball.”

Willow gave her one last appraising look before approaching Leah’s extended hand to bestow the blessing of a cheek rub. Only to then turn with a flick of her tail and saunter from the room without so much as a goodbye, its fluffy end pointed straight up.

“Same little sashay too,” Leah mused, watching her go. “Makes one consider reincarnation.”

“Were you and Diana close?” Ali asked, from her perch on the window sill.

“Very,” Leah admitted, a wistful smile brushing the corner of her eyes and lips. “Kindred spirits, you might say.”

“That’s sweet. Were you ever…?”

Leah shook her head, but a pale shadow crossed her expression.

“There’s no better friend, but the carousel of needy animals drove me batty. I crave quiet. Diana’s house is never quiet.”

“It is a bit lively there,” Ali admitted, leaning into soft laughter.

“An understatement. My wife was a reader and allergic to dogs. But she—” Leah’s mouth pressed into a thin line. She exhaled in a feeble attempt to expel the grief haunting her. “Diana’s heart has been three sizes too big since the day I met her.”

Leah’s red heels peeped from beneath the black hem of her Armani suit as she wandered through the stacks of canvases asking all manner of hard questions. But in the end, what she said was unexpected.

“Miss McCarthy, I’m uncertain how you have gone under the radar this long. I suppose your frequent moves could explain it. But your concepts and technique are exemplary.”

“Thank you.” Ali couldn’t help but smile as excitement swelled in her chest, zapping beneath her skin.

“I want to offer you an opportunity I seldom do for one so unknown as yourself,” Leah began, leveling her with a sharp stare. “Your own solo show. Fifteen new pieces, minimum.”

Her mind stuttered, the processing power of her brain lagging.

“My gallery opening is at the end of October.” Leah studied Ali’s reaction, watching as the excited smile spread across her cheeks. “I would like you to be the star.”

It took a moment, several if she were honest. Especially when she’d received her first of no doubt many rejections to one of the residencies she applied for. Leah just watched the reality sink in, her amusement growing with every passing second that Ali could only blink.

Be cool. Be cool. She told herself as she grasped the reality of the situation. The esteemed Leah Coleman was offering her a solo show at her gallery opening. That was… well that was a dream come true.

She took a slow breath, trying not to vibrate out of her own skin and wrangled her thoughts which were tripping over a slew of new ideas. She needed to remain professional. “Any particular theme?”

Leah’s expression was knowing. “Adoration and yearning.”